


Private Dragons

by Leela



Series: Glass Dragons [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of the glass dragons are made to be sold. The ones that are intended for the dragon handlers, however, need special care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Private Dragons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelaSnape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaSnape/gifts).



> **Beta** : r_grayjoy
> 
> A few months back AngelaSnape won a ficlet in my holiday fest guessing game. She requested a sequel to [Glass Dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/164325), a story I wrote for her in one of those fests. Happy birthday, Angela!

Draco lay on the large bed that filled their bedroom at the reserve, pressed into the mattress by the weight of quilts and blankets needed against the cold, and watched the glass dragons fly. The private versions, as Charlie had called them that first night at the manor, were all pairs of mated dragons. Created in memory of those who no longer flew the skies, they were always given to the dragons' primary handler.

A pair of male Horntails hovered over Draco's head. Their wings rustled. Their claws occasionally scraped each other's hides with a squeaking noise that made Draco's hair stand on end.

Right then, though, they were flying together. The dragon with the broken horn was mounting the other. The chiming of their glass bodies made the breath catch in the back of Draco's throat and the blood race to his cock. He tugged on himself lightly and played with his foreskin.

Wanking wasn't enough. He was restless, needy, and nothing could distract him from Charlie's absence. Not when Charlie was over in the cave with his troupe, forming another pair of private dragons. From their memories, their magic, and Charlie's love for his first dragon.

Then he realised what it was. Charlie needed him, and he wouldn't -- or couldn't -- return home.

With a hiss of annoyance, Draco flung off the covers and stomped over to his wardrobe. He struggled for a few seconds to get his erect cock comfortably settled in his trousers and then dragged the first jumper that came to hand over his head. He was not Charlie Weasley's bitch, and the bastard was going to pay for this, one way or another.

o~o~o

Outside was dull and dreary. Gusts of wind ruffled Draco's hair and tried to blow through his jumper. Draco crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to control his shivering and stalked towards the glass-blowing cave. The three other people who were out and about that afternoon attempted to greet him; he gave them a brief nod in return but didn't slow down until he saw the other glass blowers.

"He's waiting for you." Nandan looked tired, drawn, singed around the edges from the dragonfyre they used to melt and mould the glass.

"Bully for him," Draco said, scowling at her.

Ciprian muttered something in Romanian that Draco was fairly sure he didn't want to be able to translate. "You'll understand," he said. "Now go to him before he loses the dragons again."

"What?" Draco asked, but they were already moving on in a close-knit huddle that left no room for anyone else.

He paused at the cave entrance to listen, but couldn't hear anything. Brushing through the warding curtains, he walked down the narrow passage. The rock walls were dark and seamed with colours that sparked in the flickering light, and as he got closer to the main cave, the temperature rose.

The space was enormous and lit only by a fire on one side. Draco paid no attention to the equipment. His eyes were on the bubble that floated in the centre of the room and the pair of dragons suspended inside it. They were beautiful, but had no more life than the glass sculptures that his mother had bought for him.

A sigh drew Draco's gaze over to his left. Charlie was leaning against the wall, looking as if the rough stone was all that held him upright. A stripe of black soot marked one cheek and more was smeared over his bare, sweaty chest.

"You have a nerve," Draco said, taking a step towards him.

"Yeah, maybe I do."

Three more steps brought Draco close enough to touch Charlie. He resisted the urge to close the remaining distance, distracting himself by shoving his jumper sleeves up. "You could have told me."

"Should have, even." Charlie pushed himself off the wall and reached out to stroke his thumb over Draco's brow. "I wasn't thinking," he said, his voice softening.

"No, you weren't." Draco tried to maintain his anger, but it dissipated when he realised that Charlie was trembling. "And there isn't room for two selfish bastards in this relationship."

An odd snort escaped Charlie, and Draco's mouth curved into a smirk. Charlie's hand moved down to touch Draco's lips. Then his arms were around Draco, and they were kissing. Charlie bit and sucked, making needy sounds that cut into Draco.

Nipping at Charlie's tongue, Draco crowded into him and sent him stumbling backwards. Charlie spun them around pressed Draco against the wall.

"Please," he said, and Draco bit at his jaw, scraping his teeth over the stubble, tasting the sweat and fire.

"Merlin, please," Charlie repeated, rubbing his erection against Draco's lower belly.

There was desperation in Charlie's voice, and a need deep enough that Draco raised his left leg and curled it around Charlie's hip. Charlie began fumbling for Draco's trouser buttons.

"Use your wand," Draco said.

Charlie shook his head. "No more magic. Not until the dragons are finished." He slid the top button out of its hole. "Fucking you now."

After giving the glass sculptures a quick glance, Draco shoved aside his confusion, brought his leg back down, and began helping Charlie. He made sure to brush his fingers against Charlie's hard cock occasionally while he was undoing Charlie's dragonhide trousers. At each touch, Charlie's hips jerked, and an expletive burst from his mouth.

Eventually, Charlie was naked, and Draco was left wearing nothing but his jumper -- meagre protection against the uneven stone. Charlie reached into a large cavity nearby; his hand came out glistening with lube.

"How convenient." Draco rested his hands on Charlie's shoulders for balance as he curled his leg around Charlie's hip again. When Charlie simply stood there and grinned at him, Draco dug his heel into Charlie's arse and said, "Although not if you don't use it."

After that, Charlie didn't waste any time. One of his thick fingers swirled lube around Draco's hole and then he shoved two fingers right in without any hesitation or further preparation.

Sharp pain and instant arousal sparked up Draco's spine. "Bastard," he hissed, rotating his hips and pressing Charlie's fingers in deeper.

"Takes one to know one." Charlie said. His fingers moved in and out of Draco's arse, and Draco's hands slid down Charlie's slick skin until he was forced to clutch at Charlie's biceps.

Charlie added a third finger, and Draco moaned, "Fuck." Wanting friction and fullness, and more and more and more, Draco bucked and twisted trying to rub his cock against Charlie.

The chime of glass against glass rang through the cavern, echoing off the walls and sending a shiver through Draco.

"Yes!" Charlie pulled his fingers out of Draco and placed his hands under Draco's arse. "Up," he suggested.

Draco tightened his grip. He'd barely got his other leg up when Charlie pulled his arse cheeks apart and thrust into him. Draco was stretched wide open, burning. He dug his nails into Charlie's skin, pulling on him, encouraging him, matching him stroke for stroke.

They fucked hard and fast. The chimes echoed around the cave, around them, through them. Draco bit and scratched and clutched at Charlie, caught between Charlie and the wall, wanting him to feel as much as he did.

Draco squeezed his arse muscles, and Charlie's hips jerked and he began to make short, sharp thrusts. "More," Draco said. "Fuck, Charlie, more."

And Charlie took all of his weight, holding him tight, and fell to his knees. The impact jolted through Draco, jammed Charlie's cock against his prostate, and forced a groan out of him. He was tipped onto his back, and Charlie followed him down, spreading his legs wider, almost bending him in two. They paused, still connected, so Draco could get his legs over Charlie's shoulders, and his hand on his own cock.

"You, Draco, you." Charlie began to move again. "Mine," he said and rotated his hips. "My Draco. My dragons."

Draco kissed him, cutting off the words, tasting salt. "Mine," he corrected Charlie, squeezing his muscles around Charlie's cock again. "All mine."

And that was all it took to send Charlie over the edge. His entire body shuddered, and he cried out Draco's name. His cock pumped inside Draco. The chiming rose to a pitch that drew Draco up and up, sent the blood thundering through his veins and his orgasm pulsing out his cock.

They lay there, Charlie collapsed on top of Draco, until the sound of something shattering sent them flying apart. Charlie crouched in front of Draco, clearly ready to defend him against all comers, and Draco scrabbled for the wand that he'd left in his trousers.

The dragons landed on the floor in front of them and cocked their heads. They flapped their wings, making a tinkling noise.

Turning around, Charlie pulled Draco into his arms and said exultantly, "Yours."

"Of course," Draco said, smiling back at him. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Charlie's laughter echoed around the cavern. Draco curled into his arms and watched their dragons fly.


End file.
